Feeling Good
by Aeria
Summary: The progression of Kurt and Blaine's relationship from making out to quite a bit more. It starts with Blaine losing control in the auditorium. Then them both losing a lot more control in the car. And now Blaine's promise of a whole day in his bedroom.
1. Chapter 1

_Title:_ Feeling Good

_Challenge:_ The Kurt & Chris Song Challenge at **porcelain_fans** LJ comm..

_Song:_ Feeling Good the Adam Lambert version

_Rating: _T but…hardish T…swears and sexiness

_Summary:_ Blaine catches Kurt practicing. (note this is not a metaphor, Kurt really is just singing one lunchtime!)

_**Spoilers:**_** Future spoilers...I think for today's episode mostly. Not the major ones leaked this week. **

_Characters:_ Kurt/Blaine

_Words: _about 3300

_A/N:_ Cutting it very tight with this challenge, it's kind due now. But I made it even if I only got four hours sleep and am now on my second coffee and it's 8am and I'v ebeen up four hours. Now a 16 hour day which I have to get through alive in order to watch the new Glee. Anyway, I've always wanted to write for this song and I'd recommend you go and listen to it first because I think it's tremendously sexy so it just kind of happened. Not my usual Blaine/Kurt dynamic but hopefully believable.

Huge thanks to my brand new beta s0leil, who read this about six hours after putting her hand up as a potential beta and managed to find her way through the mess of stream-of-consciousness that is my writing. She's certainly made it a much better read. Hooray!

Can't wait to hear what you think, that is, if anyone out there manages to sit still long enough to read it!

It's lunchtime and Blaine can't find Kurt. That, in and of itself, should not be cause for concern. At Dalton, before either one of them transferred, they'd occasionally not seen each other during lunch. For the few weeks they'd been split between schools, there had been text messages during lunch but little else. But yesterday, their first day together at McKinley, they'd made plans and had been beside each other not just at lunch but in between most classes. Which was good because lunchtime yesterday came complete with slushie facials, a harsh exchange with some of the football players and then a reasonable sized brawl between the New Directions boys and said jocks. So Blaine's heart beats a little harder when no one knows where his boyfriend is.

Except Kurt hadn't seemed that upset about it. Rattled, yes, but not as phased as Blaine remembered him being before he'd left McKinley the first time. Kurt had shrugged a lot of it off and squeezed Blaine's hand and almost seemed to enjoy rinsing red slushie out of his boyfriend's hair.

He has already talked to all the girls and Finn and Puck and checked the library and the alcove at the back of the school that Kurt had pointed out the day before. Now he's in the halls, abandoned for the sun outside by everyone else, and is wondering where else to look. He heads towards the auditorium which he rationalizes is sure to be where he is even as he starts thinking of where else he can search after.

As he climbs the stairs and cracks open the door at the back of the large theater, he immediately identifies Kurt's voice and breathes a sigh of relief. He's singing, he's fine, he's sitting alone on a stool at centerstage with his eyes closed and a hand on his thigh, fingers keeping beat to a background track playing through the theater's sound system.

Blaine opens his mouth to say something, to tell Kurt he ran off on him and jokingly say he was worried even while making sure Kurt knows he actually really was, but something catches his voice in his throat and instead he's shutting the door with the smallest of clicks and just waiting.

Kurt is singing a classic, but the background track is one of the newer versions, heavier on the bass and the piano than in more classic arrangements. "Feeling Good" by oh so many artists has always sent a shiver up Blaine's spine and now, in front of him, Kurt is playing with it. Actively playing with it. And Blaine has never seen Kurt play with anything musically. He has only ever seen the polished final products and their laid back duets to songs in the car.

Now, Kurt isn't quite sitting in the notes properly, cutting them short or sliding around to feel out what sounds better. When the song takes off he's mouthing some words, singing others and stringing the notes out further than he has any right to. His fingers continue to flick against his thigh and it's captivating once Blaine realizes that he's playing an imaginary piano across his knees. His voice slips up and down and it's lower than it usually is when he sings. Not anything crazy low, nothing lower than Blaine's heard before but low for Kurt.

Breath catches in his throat and he feels a little lightheaded and he's creeping forward without realizing it. Careful not to make a sound, gaze glued to Kurt, watching the flicker of closed eyelids as his forehead creases and he considers the notes. Slides seamlessly into the second verse, relaxing a little and finding the tempo, slipping up to his favored octave and then higher, keening and Blaine has heard that note before from Kurt but never in a song.

When he reaches the stage he lays his hands there and looks up, trying to ignore the shake in his fingers, ignore the reason for it being there. But this boy is stunning. This boy is absolutely unbelievably fucking stunning. And he has no idea. Even after a month together he has no comprehension of what he is to Blaine, of how hard and how often Blaine has to pull himself back because even though there's progress and Kurt is eager, Blaine won't push. They kiss and then pet and occasionally Kurt's hips will grind down against Blaine's and Blaine will return the favor but not much more than that.

And mostly, Blaine thinks, it's because Kurt wouldn't usually let Blaine see him like this, wouldn't entertain the idea as being a good one. Which is such a huge mistake because right now, as Kurt shifts on his stool and flexes his fingers and lets his head drop a little as his voice scratches over the lyrics, he has never looked better.

Into the finale of the song, the music in the background loud and clashing and ferocious but nothing on Kurt who has hit that high keening note again, now in a jumbled mess of vowels and then higher and then slithered down to a lower register, voice husky with lack of breath. And that does something to Blaine, rather predictably, but that voice, that body backlit with harsh stage lights, that boy, does things to him and in general he'd keep them hidden away, late at night, but not now. He really can't.

Voice sliding lower, Kurt's hips—and thank god Blaine has only just noticed—rock slightly into the beat of the song. Slowing until he comes to rest—still, absurdly still, he murmurs the very last words in a voice that sounds sated and a little scratchy and then all high-pitched and shocked as he opens his eyes and yelps.

"Blaine?"

Damn. Caught. "Hey, Kurt." He tries for casual but his voice comes out completely wrecked and Kurt just looks confused.

"You know you shouldn't sneak around," Kurt chastises and attempts to busy himself by standing up and straightening his clothes but he's obviously flustered.

"Yeah, sorry, just couldn't help but watch." His voice is still absurdly high so he clears his throat and remembers to breathe, walks to the side of the stage and walks up the steps, moving to stand a foot in front of Kurt who just clasps his hands together nervously because no one was meant to see that.

Almost reading his thoughts, Blaine asks and now his voice is low as a new thought occurs. "Has anyone ever seen you sing that?"

Kurt misinterprets the thinking behind the question and his gaze falls to the floor as he blushes and all Blaine can see are the silhouettes of his eyelashes. "No, of course not, it's just for me. It's just for practice."

All at once Blaine's pleased and outraged. Pleased because he doesn't want to imagine Kurt singing that song in front of anyone else, doesn't want another soul to see his fingers against his thigh or his hips rocking or his voice skirting around the edges of notes and words. But he's also well aware that Kurt never would have sung it to him like this, never would have let anyone else hear any of it. And what a waste.

Kurt can't tell what Blaine is thinking and it's a bit disconcerting because in the last month he's gotten pretty comfortable with being able to read his expressions. "I just like to mess around with songs sometimes. It doesn't mean anything. I know it's a bit lower than I usually sing and I wasn't really hitting any of the notes right but you weren't meant to be there."

He thinks Blaine is upset that he was singing badly. That's obvious to Kurt. But Blaine is far more concerned with the tightness of Kurt's shirt, the one now on show because he's left his oversized sweater on a chair somewhere.

"It's not like I think my voice is going to get any lower or anything. I just thought I'd try. Practice. Practicing can't hurt." He's almost rambling now, cheeks tinged red with embarrassment as he recalls how loosely he was playing with the song, how little regard he had shown for doing any of it perfectly. For an audience. Because there wasn't meant to be one. "Anyway, you weren't supposed to hear it," he finishes lamely.

As soon as Kurt finishes Blaine's whispering and he doesn't think about it, just says it. "Like hell."

Kurt's brow furrows because Blaine looks visibly agitated. "What?"

"Like hell you weren't going to let me hear that." He's committed to following through on the conversation so he's formulating something of an approach.

"What?" Kurt asks dumbly again.

"It was amazing," Blaine breathes.

"You thought it was okay?" Kurt can't believe it but the way Blaine says it…it's in a tone that Kurt has started to believe Blaine reserves for the truth, for things he mutters half by accident, completely with conviction, almost always against the skin of Kurt's neck. "It just sounds a bit weird. I keep wanting to shift to a higher key." His head cocks to the side as he considers the boy standing in front him and the thoughts drifting behind his eyes, thoughts he can't begin to fathom.

Blaine looks like he wants to reach out and touch but he doesn't. "Why that song?"

"Just…I don't know, it covers such a large vocal range and it's been sung by like a million different artists so I can practice and experiment with it easily. I've heard all the versions so I can just slide up or down as I like. And, I don't know, it's a bit contemporary but a classic, a bit sexy. It's just good practice."

Blaine just stares, wondering if Kurt is seducing him on purpose, wondering if the words with the double meanings are meant. And Kurt grows uncomfortable under that gaze because what the hell?

Kurt takes a step back. "I really wish you hadn't seen me. I'm totally not ready to sing that in front of you and I wasn't even really doing it right. I didn't even have my eyes open -"

He's cut off as Blaine asks, "Do you feel it?"

"What?"

"The song, do you get why it's such a sexy song?"

Kurt's mouth opens and shuts and it would be comical but Blaine's gaze is hot and piercing and Kurt just continues to feel confused and stupid. He can't tell if Blaine is upset or sad or making fun of him. It's all so foreign, he's never, ever seen Blaine like this, so he settles for a noncommittal noise deep in his throat and waits it out.

"Because when you were singing it…you were kind of rocking and I didn't really see much of it, I think I was too busy listening to you and watching your mouth and your hands but I'm sure you were rocking with the beat."

More useless opening and closing of his mouth and Blaine walks away, lines up the background track again from offstage and lets the music start to play again through the speakers. He stares hard and long at Kurt, having some internal debate and apparently losing. Kurt doesn't begin to sing along but finds himself fighting the urge to rock on the spot to the beat when it picks up. Blaine is right, he would have been rocking because this song plays at his nerves and his mind and makes him think things about Blaine that he wouldn't usually admit to. Something between the beat and the melody and the way his voice twines around the words.

Still somewhat bemused when Blaine crosses behind him, Kurt suddenly feels like stalked prey, feels a hand across the side of his neck, feather light and then pressed, trailing around as Blaine actually circles him until he's just at the periphery and Kurt looks back and Blaine looks…hungry.

Both hands against his shoulders, aligning them, murmuring with the music but hardly even thinking about notes, Blaine steps forward, his arms slipping down Kurt's back to rest at his waist then his hips and then pulling him back and Kurt actually whimpers at the contact. Wants to press a hand over his mouth because he's shocked more at himself than at Blaine right now. Shocked that he got so caught up in the music and still is and that he's whimpering even though this is not dapper, gentlemanly Blaine looking at him through lashes and asking permission. This is something else. This is the something else he's wondered about, caught glimpses of in heated gazes and read about in stories and seen in movies and never been able to evoke. Had given up, had written that off as unattainable and stopped thinking about whether he actually wanted it and yet here it is.

He has accidentally reduced this man, his boyfriend—super controlled, super sweet Blaine—to something hungry and rocking against him, behind him, hard and with a grip at his hips that aches.

Lips on his neck and a hard cock pressed against his ass; Kurt is rocking back, unable to help himself because until five minutes ago he hadn't admitted to wanting anything like this from Blaine. Raw and sudden and out of control but now he can't imagine it otherwise. Blaine's teeth skirt down a tendon and Kurt makes a noise that's too loud in response. Blaine doesn't care, doesn't falter.

But Kurt cares and twists and mutes his voice the best way he knows how, pressing his lips to Blaine's and falling into a kiss too intense for his knees to bear. Leans hard into Blaine and they're both still rocking, the beat still behind them, beneath them— too slow, the friction dragged out too long. Blaine keeps kissing him and Kurt keeps up, breathless and choking on words and sounds and disbelief and then he shifts his attention.

A hand in Blaine's hair, his mouth at his neck, Kurt manages to wriggle a thigh between Blaine's and it should give Blaine the chance to think but he ends up talking instead. Rambling against Kurt's hair or cheek, whatever he can reach.

"You have no idea how hot you looked. How raw and intense and sexy." He runs out of words and groans and that sound carries more weight with Kurt and he finds himself biting down on the neck his lips are pressed to. "I am trying so fucking hard not to rush this. Not just for you, for both of us, and then I catch you like this." Kurt has actually raised his hands to pull at the neck of Blaine's T-shirt, stretching it so he can kiss down his chest, just a few inches, desperately.

Kurt feels a growl reverberate, can feel the heartbeat and hears himself growling back, "More," and dragging with hands that tug at the material under them until they're off stage right and Blaine has caught up, taken over and pushes Kurt far too powerfully back against a wall.

There's the sound of contact and the breath is knocked from his lungs and maybe it hurts just a little and he never would have guessed he'd get off on that, never would have featured it in his kaleidoscope of Blaine-related fantasies, but when Blaine presses taut and hot and ubiquitous over him, pushing him back, crowding him and physics becomes a real player in the interaction, he wants it to happen again.

Blaine's hands are in his hair, ruining it, no doubt, his hips against him, his cock now undeniably pressed to his hips, to his own erection, and everything else touching—friction and electricity. And Blaine still talking against his skin.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do, Kurt?" and it actually sounds like a plea. "I can't resist you—it's getting that bad. I get myself off at least twice a day to just thoughts of you and I know, _I know_ that we will get to everything. All of it. Even if you're not sure yet. But right now I can't wait. I can't." He sounds wrecked, his voice husky and strained and like he's fighting an impossible battle. "I just…" he trails off, voice breaking then broken and just captures Kurt's mouth with his and bites down just a little on his tongue and moans recklessly at the taste and the feel of the body against his.

Kurt breathes in through his nose the scent of the man against him clouding his senses alongside the flood of adrenaline and the euphoria of it all. But Blaine is pleading with him, pleading, almost begging and it is fucking hot but that doesn't help and with every ounce of willpower Kurt breaks the kiss, breaks the contact, lifts his hands to Blaine's chest from where they've managed to find his ass and were gripping, takes a second to feel the racing heartbeat that matches his and then shoves back. Hard.

Blaine stumbles, only just managing to catch himself before he goes sprawling to the ground, and ends up standing wild-eyed, several feet from where Kurt is leaning back against the wall, breathing hard and looking just a little depraved.

"Stop," Kurt says and it sounds like a demand. Before Blaine can register it properly, refusing to chance the retreat, Kurt keeps talking. "Not forever, just now. We can't do this here." Despite his best intentions Kurt's eyes wander down the length of his boyfriend, eying the scratch on his forearm, the mussed shirt that shows off the skin of his hip, the unmistakable bulge in his jeans.

When he looks back up Blaine is still staring into his eyes. Still hungry but in stasis. "I want to go home. Now." Kurt says before he even really realizes what he's saying. "I want you to calm down and walk out of here like nothing's amiss and get in your car and go back to my place and pick this up where I stopped it."

Blaine's eyes widen and he manages a whispering question, "Kurt?"

"We've waited long enough. We've waited and I don't even know why. If I have you," he blushes and Blaine wonders why, "And you want me, I'd be a fool not to go along with it."

"No," Blaine responds, indeed having calmed down and a little mortified to think back on how rough he'd been, how presumptuous, and now Kurt just wants to 'go along with it'? "I don't want to force you into anything."

Kurt huffs and runs a hand through his hair, trying to get it back in place, and he's frustrated because they could be at the car by now. "Fuck, Blaine, I want this. Couldn't you feel that?"

Now it's Blaine's turn to blush and let his eyes wander but Kurt has been thinking about Finn and Rachel and Quinn for the past few minutes and has managed to calm down significantly and straighten out his clothes.

"We ditch class, we go home, we go up to my bedroom and whatever happens, happens. It's not going to be planned perfection or something out of a movie but it's going to be you and me and I think you could just look at me right and I'd come. And that's what I _want._" Blaine staggers under the sheer weight of revelation and Kurt finally pushes off the wall. "Blaine, please," he whines and he doesn't know it but that's pretty close to the note he hit before, the one that Blaine blames for all of this.

Blaine just nods dumbly and leans forward, capturing Kurt's mouth in a kiss more sedate than before but just as deep with tongues caressing and moans escaping. As Kurt slips a hand deep into Blaine's pocket, successfully pulling the keys to his car free, Blaine can only blink and groan and wonder what the hell has just happened here today.

To Kurt's departing form, the one swinging the keys around a finger, Blaine just calls, "I'm starting to think you know damn well how sexy you are." And this, for Blaine's sanity, is a scary thought, indeed.

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><p>New Glee soon! Like less than two hours! Except I'm at uni, in Australia and have a three hour seminar for PhD crap and then a crap session and then I have to teach for three hours! Why am I even doing this to myself? I just wanna bail and go home! Anyway, reviews are like chocolate! You guys know that!<p> 


	2. Paradise by the Dashboard Light

Rating: Take note, this is now a proper M for sexy.

A/N: Well I could hardly not follow up with so many amazing reviews and calls for a sequel. Though it might not be as simple as you expected and certainly ran on for a lot longer than I planned. Thank you all so very very much for reviewing, it really makes writing worthwhile and gives me warm fuzzy feelings for the whole day. So keep up the reviews!

Also, due credit to my new fabulous beta s0leil who did edit part one but it was all kind of rushed and I didn't get the chance to give her proper thanks. She's volunteered and already she's fixing up a few of my repetitive problems (Americanisms I am not good at!) but more than that she's also making a lot of the wording better and prodding me along and giving me plenty ideas and inspiration so a huge thank you to her. Betas make the world go round, right? So she deserves a lot of kudos as well!

Anyway, long and winding, awkward, funny, hot smut follows. Hope it lives up to expectation!

* * *

><p>Blaine only needs an instant to get his legs working and follow Kurt out through the auditorium door, running after him, to his car, to his house to his <em>bed. <em>In his haste he only narrowly avoids running straight into a less-than-pleased looking geography teacher who has her arms crossed over her chest. And then he sees Kurt standing off to the side looking like the kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"You two are running to class I take it?" she says shortly.

With a start Blaine realizes the halls are mostly empty, the last few students trickling towards their classrooms. The bell must have gone.

"Of course," Blaine replies, turning the charm up to eleven and hoping beyond hope that she'll leave it at that.

"Good," is all she says and then turns to Kurt. "You ready for that test? Don't bother with your books, I'll lend you a pen."

Kurt looks utterly stricken and Blaine knows it has nothing to do with the test and a lot more to do with being dragged away to class.

"I have a lucky pen. I couldn't possibly take the test without it." And he actually manages to sound believable and actually he does have a lucky pen but he has no real want of it right now.

"Well you should have thought about that before you decided to be late. Get to class. Now."

The two boys stare at each other, mirrored horror in their eyes because as silly as it is this feels like the end of the world. All Blaine wants to do is press his body to Kurt's and kiss him one more time. Just once more, just to make sure it all happened.

"You too," she says to Blaine and her voice is raised and if he doesn't want to make a real scene he needs to turn away now.

He considers making a scene. Considers grabbing Kurt's hand and running for it and chancing a suspension on his second day. But Kurt clenches his teeth – which does remarkable things to his cheekbones – and turns on his heel.

Blaine glances at his ass, the one he should be running his hands over about now, admires the fit of the dark jeans and then, when he realizes the terrible bitch of a geography teacher is watching him, he turns and trudges away.

Calculus. Oh joy of joys.

The last period of the day is agony for both. Kurt gets chastised by the teacher for daydreaming during a test and Santana makes a lewd joke about exactly what he's daydreaming about. His hair is beyond repair and he keeps flicking at the collar of his shirt and maybe she noticed but really, _really, _she has _no_ idea.

Blaine's situation is slightly worse. His mind is racing too fast for him to keep up and he struggles as the minutes tick over to keep his mind on something, _anything_, that won't make him hard. About halfway through the class he gets a text message, sees it's from Kurt and his brain is so lust-addled that he opens it before he can stop himself.

_I can't stop thinking about you._

Blaine thinks he might have just moaned audibly because the guy in front of him has turned and is looking at him funny. When his phone vibrates again he is smart enough not to open the message.

Well, not until the end of the class when he's in the mêlée of students rushing to escape and he slips the phone from his pocket and, fully prepared, reads:

_I want you so bad._

Well that's about fucking it. Blaine eyes the door to the men's bathroom pretty damn hard, fully intent on locking himself in an end cubicle and just getting this all over with in a matter of seconds. He steps forward resolutely because the build up is too intense – and is intercepted by Finn.

"Hey, you seen Kurt?"

Snapping at him because he thinks he feels a tension headache starting to throb at the base of his skull Blaine says, "No, I have not."

Then Kurt is bounding in, all life and happiness and standing beaming between the two boys, his stepbrother and his boyfriend. "Hey!" He seems excited and Blaine looks at him with a mixture of desire, disbelief and displeasure.

"Hi," is all he manages.

Finn, of course, is oblivious. He knows they've been dating for a while but he's never been given any reason to think that this extends to more than singing showtunes together and attending the occasional show. "You ready to go?"

And now Kurt's face falls because he's forgotten that they drove in together this morning and now this is goodbye again. Blaine's face has returned to its previous mask of pending disaster and he's eying the bathroom door though now that Kurt is in front of him, getting himself off in the bathroom feels rather like no consolation at all.

"Blaine and I are going to get coffee!" Kurt suddenly blurts and, of course, if it was anyone other than Finn, he would have noticed that Kurt says it like he's just noticed an eighth color in a rainbow but it is Finn and instead he just gives a bit of a shrug. "Blaine will drop me off at home afterwards," Kurt reassures.

Blaine is now beaming as well, his bad mood turned on its head so quickly with this sudden, brilliant, turn of events. He does his best to stand beside Kurt and not touch him and look convincing until Finn turns and walks off and then the pair of them are silently counting to five in their heads before following Finn out. Trying not to make any contact, trying not to think about it, trying to not break into a jog to get where they're going.

Blaine's car, a sleek looking black BMW sedan that's all plush leather seats and wood paneling and they still won't meet each other's gaze and won't speak and then they kind of scramble into their seats and stare ahead at the mess of students departing McKinley.

A harsh breath escapes Blaine's lungs and he laughs and it reminds Kurt of that very fist kiss so many weeks ago. It does something strange to his stomach and he shifts in his chair.

"This is ridiculous," Kurt breathes, finally turning in the passenger seat to look at Blaine, to take in his still slightly askew hair and the sharp lines of his body. He's still so, so tense and Kurt shivers to realize it. "Where are we going?"

All at once Blaine's face falls from spirited excitement to shock. "Fuck," he grinds out from between clenched teeth. He throws his head back into the headrest, accentuating his neck, and slams a hand into the steering wheel. Kinda hot, Kurt thinks to himself and waits for him to reveal the cause of this frustration because he's pretty happy to just map the lines of his body while he's all tense and stretched out.

"I dunno Kurt, where _are _we going? 'Cause my dad is at my house and your brother is at yours."

Understanding dawns on Kurt and his relaxed observation dissolves and he's tense now too. "Where are we gonna go?"

"You're gonna think this is the dumbest thing I've ever said but I can't even think straight because I want you so bad." Blaine sounds self-deprecating and silly and Kurt giggles and resists the urge to place a hand over his thigh because he suspects what his boyfriend's reaction would be.

"We have to go _somewhere_," Kurt says and it's a whisper and it's low and it's breathy and it's _earnest _and Blaine instantly leans over and captures his mouth – to hell with anyone walking across the McKinley lawns and glancing into his car.

The kiss is sweet and tentative on the surface and probably appears so to anyone watching – and by god Lauren and Puck walking past at just the opportune moment are – but between lips their tongues are fierce and dominating and their hands are grasping at the knees of their own jeans because if they take this up a level…

With heavy breaths and shaking hands and paradoxically bashful grins they finally pull away.

"We need to find somewhere," Kurt murmurs.

"We really, really do." Blaine replies.

They sit in silence and it feels like agonizing hours but it's only a few minutes and they can't think of anything.

"I suppose we should go and get that coffee," Blaine eventually offers, knowing it's a kind of defeat worse than death. "Can't sit in the parking lot all day."

Kurt hums his response and has no idea the effect that has on the boy next to him. The car's started and put into gear with shaky hands and Blaine turns right out of the parking lot.

The drive is tense, the trip only a few minutes but Blaine's knuckles are white and he's hard again, just from a kiss, though he does his best to keep that a secret from Kurt because this is getting embarrassing. Kurt, for his part, has managed to get himself reasonably under control. A geography test, complete with inappropriate comment and the teacher calling him out can do that for you. Plus he's used to presenting an exterior in sharp juxtaposition to what brews beneath.

But the drive changes that. Blaine is driving, eyes obsessively sticking to the stretch of road, the busy after-school, after-work traffic meaning he really does have to concentrate but he's squirming a little and Kurt's watching. Obsessively.

Because this is what Kurt has done to him. He's pretty sure of that now. And it's remarkable but true because he most certainly sees it in the lines of him as he drives. He is so tightly strung that when a car honks at someone else on the other side of the intersection his thighs tense and his hips visibly rise off the seat and the breath in his lungs escapes and a look washes over his face, something Kurt's never seen before.

He is so fucking turned on and Kurt knows it and takes credit because there's no other explanation and part of him is in shock because just a few hours ago he had known this was a sweet, romantic relationship of gentle escalation and calculation and never ever desperation. Never that crazy untamable provocation that he dreamt about.

They get to the Lima Bean. They sit, frozen in the car, neither wanting to go in and eventually Blaine can't help but voice it, even as he speaks blaming his predilection to speech for the mess he's in. "I can't go in there."

Kurt arches an eyebrow – controlled but insanely provocative because there's nothing about him at this point that isn't – and asks, "Why?"

Blaine throws him a desperate look. "I can't…" he just murmurs, still half-arching in the seat.

"Me either," Kurt admits and he is so, so pleased that he decided to go back to the auditorium and grab his sweater because right now it's reaching mid-thigh and covering something far too obvious.

The paradox of shy and sweet with desperate and turned on remains between them. They stare and this is just getting silly and Blaine says it. "Look, I'm desperate, but I can't think of anywhere we can go and this should be special. I think…" he hesitates because he hates himself for relinquishing this. At the very core of his hot-blooded teenage boy mind he hates that he has this boy, this fabulous, amazing boy sitting here willing and able and fucking sexy and turned on and he's going to say no. "I think I should just take you home."

Kurt's face falls for a brief second when he misconstrues, ridiculously, this as rejection. But then he recognizes the sentiment, realizes Blaine's talking about special and romance and firsts and can understand exactly what he's saying but asks anyway. "You really want me, don't you?"

And Blaine chokes out a "Yes."

Then Kurt nods and must have been agreeing to going home because Blaine starts the car again and drives out of the Lima Bean's parking lot.

When they turn onto Kurt's street, if anything, it's worse. Blaine has fallen into the trap of glancing at Kurt at each set of lights, at each stretch of clear road and devouring him with his eyes. And Kurt has started smiling back, experimenting, practicing, with a hand that just brushes Blaine's on the gearstick or ghosts over his thigh and Blaine can't help but make these wonderful sounds at the back of his throat and they urge Kurt on and make him laugh with something that feels like giddiness.

Until Blaine growls and grunts out 'stop' and Kurt's stunned by the severity in his voice but just lays a hand hot against his thigh and maybe then the car swerves a little bit but then they're turning onto Kurt's street and Blaine is nearly snarling. "This is not funny."

Before he can stop himself Kurt is saying, "Actually it kind of is. It's kind of amazing."

And the sincerity and the edge of awe in his voice makes Blaine realize that this is finally getting through to him and as dangerous as it is to have Kurt know the pull he has over Blaine, having him know is marvelous and right and _happening_.

They're rolling to a stop across the street from Kurt's house and the reality of this goodbye hits Kurt quickly and hard. It's a Tuesday. Which means tomorrow there'll be no coffee before school because Blaine has to drop his sister off and then no lunch together because he's already made plans with Tina to work on the science project. And then Glee. And then…what? Home to parents and brothers and…

"Keep driving," he stammers and Blaine looks at him like it might have been imaginary so he says it again. "Keep driving."

"Where?" Blaine asks.

"Just somewhere." He shifts in his seat, arches a little and Blaine's eyes go wide. "Blaine," Kurt whines and by god it's that single high note, the one Kurt's now _using_ against him, the one that's going to be the death of him. "Just put the car in gear and drive to the end of the street. Take a right then your second left and just _drive_."

Not having to be told twice, a brief few minutes later Blaine is pushing over the speed limit just because he's tense all over, headed out of town on a two-lane highway and asking, worry slipping into his tone, "Kurt, where are we going?"

Kurt sounds thoughtful, like he's debating something, and he's been staring at Blaine all this time, turned completely in his seat, his fingers itching to move from his knees to touch. "I don't know."

Blaine finally glances at him before looking back at the road. "Well, what's the plan?"

"I don't know that either," Kurt half laughs but Blaine's next glance, confused and unsure prompts him to continue. "I just know I need more of you today or I'm going to lose my mind."

Another glance from Blaine and they're getting longer and the speed's getting higher. Even though they're not going anywhere.

"I flunked that Geography test."

"Don't say that, I'm sure you did fine." Blaine mistakes the tone for disappointment when really it's more akin to reminiscence, his head spinning because Kurt just said he wanted him and that's the plan. It's a good plan.

"I drew spirals all over the paper. I didn't even read the questions," Kurt admits. "If I don't get to touch you…" he lets it trail off.

"We could go to a motel," Blaine blurts out and feels seedy for even thinking it.

Kurt just tilts his head in a way that shows he's already considered it. "I don't have the cash on me and I'm guessing neither do you? Neither one of us wants that on a credit card statement. Just keep driving."

"But where are we driving to?" Blaine asks, again the frustration boiling over in his voice. They've been driving for about fifteen minutes now and are moving through the outskirts of town, neighborhoods giving way to farms and fields. Traffic has thinned out and the glare of sunlight off the pavement on the almost empty road in front of them only serves to accentuate their lack of destination.

"I'm not sure!" Kurt says back, becoming just a little sharp. Then, "Take this left."

Blaine huffs but does what he's told, slowing through the intersection but still letting his tires squeal. There is no traffic on the side road and Blaine reaches his breaking point when Kurt takes an audible steadying breath and lets the tips of his fingers brush over Blaine's hand on the gearshift. Blaine jumps at the contact even though he saw it coming and something in his head just short circuits and it is too much over too long and it is so entirely unfair.

"I should have just got myself off in the bathroom at school," he bites out. "So should you." Kurt manages to only look mildly interested and it's only because he's had the same thought about a dozen times in the last ten minutes.

"Don't be silly. Turn here."

Blaine turns and it's an even smaller road, straight with scattered letterboxes and driveways threading back to farmhouses. Blaine tries not to imagine how this plan might work. "Why is that silly?" he asks, voice high with tension and an edge of anger. "Whatever happens here it's going to be a disaster."

Brow furrowed, Kurt dares to lay his hand against his boyfriend's thigh, feel the firm heat. "How do you mean?"

"We're going to pull over, aren't we?"

Kurt hums because that's the best plan he's managed to come up with.

"In broad daylight and then we're just going to do it?"

Kurt starts a little, blinking rapidly and Blaine is watching him even though he really should be concentrating on the road. When he does look up he realizes that he's veered into the wrong lane and enough of this. Because getting into a car accident with his boyfriend is not on the agenda. He pulls over onto the shoulder, spinning his tires just a little in the muddy grass at the side of the road.

He thinks he knows why Kurt is suddenly looking scared and if it wasn't such a cause for concern it would kind of be endearing. But once the car's turned off and the hand break is pulled, Blaine focuses and lifts a hand to Kurt's cheek, caresses and holds and it's the sweetest thing they've had between them all day. Guides his lips forward and presses something chaste and understanding there.

"I know you've just figured out that you're sexy and that you want this and I've kind of just figured out that I have a lot less control over myself than I thought. And it's just going to get worse once you start getting me all hot and bothered on purpose. But…" he pauses to make sure Kurt understands. "But I won't hurt you and we'll never do anything you don't want to do. And I think this is going to be a disaster because whatever you want to do it's going to happen so damn fast and probably uncomfortably and on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere."

Soft eyes and a smile on his lips and Kurt is still just staring back having relaxed and begun nuzzling into the hand still against his cheek.

Blaine presses on. "What you want to do, and I'm kind of assuming, it should be special." A blush and he looks down to where Kurt's still got a hand against his thigh. "I just…What exactly do you want? Because we can plan it and do it properly."

Kurt thinks for a few seconds, tries to line up his thoughts into some sort of order but Blaine is back to his usual gentlemanly self and this is him asking permission and being perfect and wanting to plan everything precisely. Kurt's fingers flex against Blaine's thigh experimentally, curling up and scratching lightly and then caressing back out and watching, fascinated as a shiver races across Blaine's shoulders and his hips rock ever so slightly. Then he leans across the space and kisses him.

Hard. Lips pushing and wet and opening. Tongues meeting in a well-practiced dance even as a moan slips between them and Blaine's hands settle across Kurt's jaw, holding him in place as he responds in kind. Kurt wastes no time once the kiss is established and the not-so-sweet sentiment is expressed. His hand skirts down, feeling along the muscle to his knee, squeezing and then sliding back up, tracing a strong thigh through denim and tugging playfully at the waistband when he gets there. Then moving to the crotch, covering, searching, finding the definition of Blaine's cock, still half hard from an afternoon of torture – and stroking.

Blaine's mouth pulls from Kurt's with the sound of wet lips parting and a groan and he's breathing hard and biting back an expletive but Kurt's hand doesn't move, just strokes and feels and he's giddy to realize Blaine getting harder under his touch.

Blaine thinks somewhere in the back of his mind that he should stop him, should at least tell him to stop or make a half hearted attempt to bat his hand away, but he hadn't imagined that someone else's hand, even through so much material, could feel this good. His body's even tenser now and probably going to be a mess of cramped muscles tomorrow and his hands have fallen to grab at the car to ground him. He throws a pained look at Kurt and Kurt smiles back at him, minx-like and through lashes and not helpful at all.

The hand not stroking Blaine through his pants unbuckles both their seatbelts and then, after perhaps a moment's hesitance, traces down his own body to relieve just a little of the pressure, pressing harshly against the uncomfortable bulge in his jeans and groaning low at the feel.

Blaine hadn't even really realized Kurt was hard, had somehow missed that there was much more in the universe besides Kurt's hand and his own cock. He chokes out the younger boys name and sounds wrecked but manages one last inquiry for permission. "Is this what you really want?"

Kurt stops stroking, both hands stilling and his eyes slipping up Blaine's body to meet his gaze. "You're right, it's not going to be like I imaged it but it wasn't going to be like I imagined it even if we did manage to get to one of our bedrooms. But it'll be special because it's you. I want to map every inch of you with my fingers and kiss every single angle of you and I want to taste you and hear every sound I can make you make. And I want to take hours to do it and I want you to do it back to me. But right now I just really, really need to come. And I want it to be with you because you coming is the single hottest thing I've ever managed to imagine and I suspect it'll be hotter in reality. Just like kissing you. If that makes sense." Kurt realizes he's rambling and that his talent for speech has kind of screwed him in this instance because that was a bit more than he'd wanted to reveal.

Blaine just breathes, "Okay," and dives at him. It's a mess of limbs and mouths and it takes only seconds before Blaine's yelping in a not pleasurable way because he's managed to throw most of his weight against the gearstick and it has pushed into his side below his ribs.

Kurt just retreats to lean against the door opposite and laughs behind his hand as Blaine tries to survey the damage, lifting his shirt and twisting. Kurt's breath catches to see so much skin – not skin he hasn't caught glimpses of before – but suddenly something he can plan to touch and lick and tickle.

Twisting himself, Kurt looks over his shoulder to the backseat of Blaine's car and groans before throwing his boyfriend a withering look that would be much more effective if Kurt didn't pair it with a willful rock of his hips and the purposeful flicking open of the top button of his jeans.

"Give me a hand," he says, opening the passenger door and clambering out.

"That's the plan," Blaine can't resist and he opens his own door and looks at Kurt across the top of his car.

Another look that would usually scream_ 'bitch, please'_ but doesn't because Kurt is grinning like an idiot and his hair is messier than ever. "Pop the trunk."

Blaine complies and then together they pull open the back doors of the car and start transferring the embarrassing mess of sheet music, empty coke bottles, school notes, books, shoes and two guitars into the trunk. Kurt dumps the last stack of random paper and mutters admonishingly, "Really Blaine," before being swept up and pressed back against the car.

Anyone could drive past and see but there hasn't been a single car since they stopped and Blaine has decided it's worth the risk. He kisses his boyfriend and lets his hands hold on at the waistband of his pants just a little loose with the undone button. Kurt grins against his lips and then untangles himself, slams the trunk closed and crawls into the back seat, sliding across and pulling the opposite door shut.

Blaine joins him and they sit there, considering the smaller than ideal dimensions of the backseat. Blaine manages a light-hearted "Now what?" and Kurt just rolls his eyes and throws a pointed look at Blaine's crotch. Then an idea sparks and he moves forward crouching between the two front seats and leans over, reaching and finding the lever beneath the front passenger seat to slide it forward as far as it can go and then, with a little more feeling around, finding another which releases the back of the chair so that it swings all the way forward.

Behind him, Blaine makes an appreciative noise and Kurt's about to quip something about being smarter than most when Blaine's hand comes to lie across his ass, a thumb daring to trace down his spine and along the crack as he squeezes. And for a brief second Kurt thinks about changing his quip to something self-deprecating or sarcastic but then he falls into the feeling of how remarkable Blaine's hand feels there and he never would have guessed at that except today in the auditorium Blaine's cock there felt pretty damn good as well.

A desperate sound escapes his lips and next time the girls bitch to him about boys not spending enough time on foreplay Kurt's going to have the mother of all comebacks. Awkwardly he manages to move back from between the seats, to turn on the spot and with a hand either side of Blaine's head, his own almost hitting the roof, he leans in over him. Blaine gets the idea, even as his hands stretch out, wanting, grabbing at Kurt and pulling as he slips a few inches across and then down in his seat and somehow Kurt manages to get where he wants, a knee on either side of Blaine's hips and his weight resting across his thighs.

Blaine's hands are back on his ass, both of them, obsessively caressing and squeezing and then running up Kurt's back before trailing back down. He's waiting, being patient and Kurt wants to set him on fire, wants it to be like it was only a couple of hours ago in the auditorium so he kisses him and threads his fingers into his hair and presses down and against as much as he can.

Instantly Blaine is pressing back, arching off the seat and Kurt can feel him through all the denim and the difficult angles and it's making him harder and now he knows exactly what was meant when Blaine warned about it being fast. He groans something against his mouth and bites at his bottom lip before pressing a sloppy kiss to his chin and bending to bite down the side of his neck.

A steady stream of moans and choked breaths escape Blaine as his head presses back into the headrest and he angles his neck into the boy sucking hard on it. Fingers flex and skirt over Kurt's hips and waist and search for the zipper of his pants. Blaine's voice is embarrassingly high-pitched when he bumps his chin against Kurt's head in an effort to look down and says, "Button fly jeans?" before his fingers start to tear – mostly ineffectively – at the half dozen buttons he hadn't noticed until then.

Kurt just giggles against the dip at the base of Blaine's neck and swipes his tongue across as his own deft fingers find the button and zipper of Blaine's jeans, making short work of them, and then slithering inside.

Blaine groans and bucks, lifting Kurt a few inches in the air, at the sudden contact of Kurt's hand against him through thin cotton. Fears that the contact of skin on skin might kill him. Will certainly push him over the edge. Then tries to ignore the insistent if limited stroking and get the last two buttons undone.

Manages and makes a strangled triumphant sound that Kurt half swallows as their mouths find each other and press open and hot and messy. Blaine loses the tempo as he struggles to wriggle a hand into Kurt's pants and it occurs to him how unfair it is that Kurt's been able to touch him so much today but he hasn't had a single moment to wrap his hand around Kurt. Wants desperately to rectify that but those jeans are too tight and with Kurt's legs spread to straddle him he can't tug them down.

He growls and pushes Kurt back and up until his head is pressing into the roof of the car and still he can't get those pants down and he can barely see straight for the knowledge that if he wanted to he could let go and come right now.

Thanks his lucky stars he's been getting himself off to thoughts of Kurt so often because it's given him a sliver of control.

"You gotta get off me," he manages to say and Kurt knows damn well why but just smirks and kisses him. Leaves Blaine no choice but to bring his hands up to his hips and hold tight, pushing back further and over and into the seat beside them. Ignores Kurt's surprised yelp and laughter and just grabs at the knees of his jeans and yanks as hard as he can, pulling them down over Kurt's hips to reveal his very blatant erection beneath light blue underwear. Blaine slams his eyes shut at that because he comes dangerously close just at the sight. Bites out "Fuck, Kurt, this is gonna get embarrassing," before opening his eyes and making sure to look up.

Kurt just smiles and blushes a little and nods in agreement before he slides across the seat to press his thigh to the side of Blaine's and whisper in his ear, "I want you on top of me," in a shy little voice that makes Blaine groan again. "You got me so hard up against that wall at school."

Purposely breathless and perfectly pitched and Blaine does not have to be asked twice. Scrambles around and over until they've switched the positions they started in and Blaine is straddling Kurt's legs and running his hands over his chest, wishing there were less clothes, trying to keep the friction away from his cock. Reaches out, finally, and strokes Kurt through his briefs. He is hard and hot and fits perfectly against his palm.

He raises his eyes to Kurt's to see him watching him back, head cocked, smile soft, breath quick. Strokes a little harder, wonders if he has the courage to pull the fabric away, dares to circle a thumb around the head and is rewarded with a buck of hips and a small cry slipping from between Kurt's lips.

"Blaine…" he murmurs and he's never, ever said it like that before. Blaine circles his fingers again, repeating the motion and is similarly rewarded with another thrust and his name again, sounding like a desperate warning.

Then Blaine groans because Kurt is impatient and even though he wants to keep drawing this out, wants the rush of adrenaline to last forever, he kind of just wants it over now, wants release and ecstasy and so reaches forward and pulls at the waistband of Blaine's briefs, pulls down and watches entranced as his boyfriend's cock springs free and the friction there alone almost makes Blaine come and the sight and the sound from Blaine's throat nearly do the same to Kurt.

Turnabout's fair play and Blaine's hands are instantly pulling Kurt's underwear down, struggling to get far enough with the obstacle of the seat under his ass but far enough to release him and Kurt bites his lip and closes his eyes and Blaine drinks him in with his eyes.

"Blaine…" Kurt mewls again and there's so much unspoken there but Blaine knows and leans forward and captures his lips in a kiss even as his hands move up Kurt's arms and down his chest and he wraps a hand around Kurt's cock and strokes slowly. They gasp into each other's mouths simultaneously and Kurt's hands move blindly until he finds Blaine, hard and perfect and arching into him, groaning into his mouth and Kurt mirrors the pace set up for him.

Lips slip apart as Kurt searches out Blaine and locks eyes with him, smiling shakily and Blaine opens his mouth to warn, to say something because Kurt's strokes have quickened and tightened and he can't hold on any longer but Kurt's neck tilts back as his hips snap forward and he keens something long and breathless and high and then murmurs "Oh god, oh god, Blaine," and he's clinging to his boyfriend's shoulder with his spare hand as his hips rock recklessly and he comes hard, his face a mask of desperate pleasure before his eyes flicker open even as he rides out the end and he searches for the boy above him desperate to watch and that does it for Blaine.

That and hours of waiting – weeks, months, his whole damn life – and now he's seen Kurt come undone for him and with a hand over Kurt's, both around his cock he strokes one more time harshly – and _oh fuck_ this is just bliss – he sees stars and bucks and he'd been coiled too tight so it's an out of control writhing and he holds Kurt's hand there as he grinds into it and shouts out his boyfriend's name and then collapses onto the warm chest and thighs beneath him with a sated groan.

It takes then both time to recover and even then they both mentally run through the reasons to move and not to until the sound of a truck passing makes them both tense. Thank god the windows are tinted. Blaine makes a slight move to shift, aware of the mess between them and how stupid they were not to have considered that consequence but Kurt mewls at the back of his throat and pulls Blaine back onto him, drawing down the weight and his lips for a languid kiss that they find themselves smiling into, nipping playfully, lapping at lips and then Blaine is pressing a kiss to Kurt's nose and drawing himself up and away and they're both laughing, drunk off the chemicals in their blood, as Blaine clambers to the side pulling his underwear and jeans up single handed before he leans into the front to grab the packet of tissues conveniently kept in the glove box.

He offers them to Kurt who blushes hard as he looks down at himself and wonders what's him and what's Blaine and then does his best to clean himself up before buttoning his jeans and ignoring the stain on the hem of his shirt.

"I want to do that again," Blaine breathes out to break the tension.

Kurt smiles, stretching like a cat. Blaine's reaching for the door and opening it and climbing out and Kurt doesn't really mean to be heard when he replies, "I want to do it naked."

But Blaine just laughs as he slips into the driver's seat and looks over his shoulder as Kurt opens his own door. "I want to do it in your bed," he challenges back.

Kurt is leaning in the passenger side door and readjusting his seat and he misses a beat before saying without looking up, "I want to blow you."

Blaine's eyes go wide and his mouth hangs open because his innocent boyfriend who'd only ever kissed him before today just stole a line straight out of a porno and more than that, he's saying he wants to…Blaine's mind reels and then Kurt's slipping into the seat and fluttering his eyelashes and smiling all too angelically. Blaine can only choke out "Really?" as he turns the key in the ignition and revs the engine.

Kurt hums his agreement entirely on purpose and Blaine groans because he can feel his cock straining to get hard again already. "I'm taking you home before you kill me," he says, only half-joking. "And then tomorrow I'm picking you up from school before first period and we're spending the whole day in my bedroom."

Kurt arches an eyebrow because he's never been a bad student but he reasons that his previous commitment to his studies stands as justification for a day's truancy. Voice bubbling over with laughter and the ridiculous truth of it, Kurt just says, "I can hardly wait," and settles into his seat for the drive home.

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><p>Hope it was as good for you as it was for me! Con crit welcome as always as well as anything else you want to tell me! Huzzuh!<p> 


	3. Your Body is a Wonderland

_So some of you requested a sequel and my beta, Tessa (the beta) kind of threw two paragraphs of Blaine and Kurt being amazing together and said 'write it' and then was good enough to spend the last 36 hours prodding and poking it into shape. And it's epic, it's 10000 words plus a bit and I was tempted to split it into two chapters because I am exhausted from writing it and desperate to hear what the rest of the world thinks and I'm not sure anyone will be bothered reading all the way through. But if you do, I am shamelessly begging, leave me a review because I love them and it makes it all worthwhile. _

_And, really, I could have been a terrible person and strung this out into four or five chapters. But I didn't. _

_Immense thanks to Tessa for the continuous editing. She's read it several times and fixed all my wonky English and typos and come up with several of the best lines. And she was the one with the initial idea and the one that came up with the song (and oh what a fitting song) and I would never have even attempted something this epic without her request for it. I'm also going to say she co-wrote the little epilogue that you'll fall in love with at the end because at least half of the stuff there is hers. _

_Anyway, epic, epic, romantic, smutty fic follows. Enjoy it._

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><p>Blaine opens the front door to his house mere moments after Kurt knocks making the younger boy suspect he'd been waiting there. Kurt is late—by about ten minutes—but still, he's never been late for anything with Blaine before and there's a glimmer of worry in Blaine's eyes that dissolves when Kurt smiles shyly and walks past him into the entrance hall of Blaine's parents' expensive house. Kurt has been here before, but never for this.<p>

Four days ago, on the side of the road after school, they'd clambered into the back seat of Blaine's BMW and in a rush of pent-up sexual frustration had gotten off together before either one of them really had time to think about it. It was so fast and so hot and so unexpected and then Kurt had spent the rest of the day in a haze of sated happiness and had said some things to Blaine, had sent him some text messages and then a cheeky email.

And then his dad had gotten home from the shop and cornered him and expressed concern. Apparently an over-zealous geography teacher had called and complained, something about Kurt failing a test spectacularly and was Burt going to deal with it? Burt had never had to deal with Kurt's academic performance failing before and had no idea where to even begin but Kurt had just colored and apologized and told him it was a one-off thing

It was a confrontation he hadn't been ready for and he was mortified to think of what his dad would say if he pinpointed the real reason he'd failed and attempted to broach the subject.

Thus, the following day, cheeky provocation aside, when Blaine had tried to get Kurt to skip school as discussed with a waggle of his eyebrows, Kurt had stiffened and refused. Initial hurt had dissolved once Kurt explained about the geography test and Blaine half-laughed at Kurt's determination to rectify the situation. He'd murmured something about Kurt having to make it up to him and had then jogged back towards his car where he'd left his things in the honest expectation that Kurt would be going home with him before first period.

Kurt had avoided Blaine the rest of the day though he couldn't pinpoint why. He regretted letting his grades slip, he regretted drawing spiral patterns over a geography test he could have aced, but he did not regret what had happened in Blaine's car. Not even a little—and that kind of surprised him.

Perhaps he'd regretted the boldness that had crept into his tone and words following and how he'd said he wanted to be naked with Blaine and wanted to blow him and had said it all like it was for real. Though it should have been for real, shouldn't it? He'd had Blaine straddled over his thighs and his cock out and agonizingly close to Blaine's and hands had been everywhere and he'd come. So natural progression dictated that they do it again and more because it had felt so utterly fantastic and this was his stunning boyfriend who was perfect in all the ways that mattered so why not?

Which was why when Blaine had lined up his house, guaranteed to be empty for the entire afternoon, and a 'study date' for Saturday, Kurt couldn't come up with a good reason to say no. Thus he'd found himself sitting in his car, in park but still running, behind Blaine's BMW and he'd just gripped the steering wheel and willed himself to get on with it.

Ten minutes in his car, willing himself out of it because he was being silly and he wanted this and wanted to get that desperate hot feeling back in the pit of his stomach and wanted to make Blaine say his name all breathless and needy again. And to do that, he had to go inside.

So he got out of the car and went to the door and knocked.

And now here was Blaine and he's following Kurt inside, down the hall. They haven't spoken and that's weird and Kurt is tense and gripping the strap of his messenger bag tighter than he needs to and can feel Blaine's gaze against his back.

He's heading straight to his boyfriend's bedroom and is willing himself forward. He wants this and refuses to admit what's making panic rise sharply in his throat. Gets to the door of Blaine's room and inside it looks just like it's looked every other time he's visited. Big bed with dark sheets, perfectly made. A desk piled high with books and a bookshelf beside it, similarly stocked. Guitars in the corner, a stack of sheet music, the stereo, the door to Blaine's bathroom. It's a bright room, cream colored walls and mahogany furniture, the drapes pulled back to afford a view of the immaculately green garden.

He stalls in the doorway and as excited as Blaine is to be doing this he is not a moron, has noticed the sharpness to Kurt's body, and suspects. "Kurt," he murmurs behind him in something half-plea, half-reassurance.

Kurt turns with an all-too-dazzling smile, "Yep?"

Blaine smiles and takes the messenger bag, depositing it near the bookshelf and then stands in front of Kurt, his knuckles caressing over a cheek and drawing him in for a sweet kiss. It's soft and reassuring and just a gentle movement that draws itself out as Kurt relaxes and lets his hands come up to rest on Blaine's elbows and both Blaine's hands are against his cheeks touching.

Blaine kisses him breathless, makes him forget, makes the tension seep away until Kurt is leaning into the kiss, opening his mouth and letting his tongue trace lips, trying to deepen the contact. Eventually Blaine gives in, mouth opening enough to let their tongues meet and press and taste. Keeping the caress of his hands on Kurt's skin constant, he lets his hands move from cheeks to jaw, down his neck and then up into his hair.

When he pulls back they're both smiling and Kurt is breathing properly for the first time since he drove up to the house. "Hey," Blaine says, wanting to be comforting, one hand that's smoothing a loose strand of Kurt's hair back from his forehead. "Are you okay?"

Kurt smiles that same bright, fake smile and is about to say 'yes' when he notices how worried Blaine looks, how uncertainty and discomfort are creeping in at the edge of his expression and he knows it's because he's acting weird and his voice cracks before he can fake it.

"Kurt?" and now Blaine is definitely worried and leads him to the bed and sits him down there, taking his place beside him and carefully leaving him space to breathe. "You gotta talk to me here because I don't know what's going on."

Kurt huffs out a breath and gives another shaky smile. "I'm just nervous, I guess." He is underplaying it but at least it's something honest. Blaine nods in understanding and Kurt continues, "The other day was—"

Blaine looks utterly devastated at this point, anticipating words he doesn't want to hear and Kurt hurries to make amends. "It was amazing. It was and…just…wow." Blaine's smile returns, uncontainable and broad. "But I just—" he shakes his head, unable to find the right words. "Today's something else and I've been terrified since you suggested it and I just don't want anything to go wrong."

Blaine's brow creases at that because he's worked hard to plan this and make it perfect and actually Kurt suggested it. "This was your idea initially and no one is going to come and interrupt us here. We have as long as we want and we can do what we like. I've got movies and lunch organized. There's nothing that can go wrong."

Kurt's face scrunches and he looks stricken but only mumbles "Yeah," in a half-hearted kind of way.

"Look, I'm not going to hold you to what you said you wanted to do. I'm fine with whatever you want. Anything," Blaine tries again.

Kurt leans back, away from Blaine and kicks his shoes off so he can pull his knees up and sit at the end of the bed. "No," more hesitance in Kurt's tone and Blaine is starting to feel really bad about something, "I want to do all that with you. I want to do everything with you. I'm just nervous."

Kurt is trying to brush it off and it's just making the panic tighten in him, pushing out any pleasure from the kiss when they'd walked in that had remained.

Blaine just stares at him, blatantly considering, evaluating. He hadn't expected such strong opposition but he shouldn't be surprised. It had taken him a while to work out that the whole 'sexy' debacle was an artifact of Kurt never having thought of himself as capable of being in a relationship but they were past that. So what was this?

"We can stop whenever you want," Blaine reassures but Kurt is still nodding like he wants this and his eyes are on Blaine's mouth. "And what I really, really want to do is just explore." Kurt looks momentarily thrown as though it's such a strange thing to request and Blaine chooses to clarify. "I just want to practice."

And it's become a running joke between them, something they giggle at whenever anyone uses the word around them and now Kurt barks a laugh and relaxes just slightly and Blaine takes the chance to lean in, his thumb at Kurt's chin, and draws him in for another kiss.

Kurt gives in. Breathes out through his nose and hums against Blaine's lips even as he feels Blaine manipulating him. He's crawling further onto the bed, scooting up on his knees close to Kurt, but not close enough to press. Keeps kissing him and somewhere in Kurt's mind he knows that's the trick, knows that with Blaine's mouth against his he can't, doesn't want to fight very much at all.

So when Blaine's hands, heavy and hot and stroking, move up his denim-covered calves, he doesn't mind so much. They caress though the material and then meet Kurt's own hands at his knees, coercing them away and then settling themselves on his knees, resting there long enough for Blaine to swipe his lip across Kurt's bottom lip and then suck there, eliciting a soft moan.

Gentle pressure on his knees, moving them apart and down until Blaine can move just a little closer, kneeling between Kurt's legs. His hands move up, considering the heavy knit of the sweater Kurt is wearing, considering how ridiculous a barrier it is and wondering what's beneath it. They hold close up his sides then fleetingly across his chest, feeling him tense just a little and kisses back harder in response. When Kurt's hands find the back of Blaine's neck, fiddling with the curls there, Blaine pulls back just far enough to share a smile.

Muscles relaxed, fingers still curling in his hair, Blaine dares ask, "Can I take this off?" and fingers at the hem of the heavy wool.

Kurt's eyes flicker—it's momentary, but Blaine sees it—but he nods resolutely and shifts forward to enable Blaine to pull it off.

He should really hang it up somewhere but Blaine manages to throw it over the back of a chair and that's good enough. Underneath, Kurt is wearing a long-sleeved, high-collared white shirt that makes Blaine groan and throw him a look, and forgetting he's meant to be being careful he mutters, "You're really making me work for this, aren't you?"

Kurt gives another faint smile and Blaine says, "You said naked?" and he's only half joking because his fingers are at the hem of the shirt, brushing back and forth just above the waistband of his jeans and he begs with his eyes, "Please?"

Kurt looks nervous again and Blaine chuckles and hopes it sounds self-deprecating because he'd always planned on doing this with Kurt and tit for tat and all that so before Kurt can say no, Blaine finds the hem of his own T-shirt and pulls it over his head.

Kurt is faced with all hard planes and sharp angles—this perfect, masculine boy with lines of muscle definition that Kurt has never allowed in his fantasies and a scattering of hair that he's only been entertaining as a potential since he'd seen the dense covering of it at the base of Blaine's cock a few days ago. He's fucking perfect and it makes Kurt's breath catch and again he fights back something scary and says 'Yes,' because this is what he'd said they'd be doing.

Blaine's fingers slip under his shirt and over hot skin and Kurt hates that Blaine has never seen him without a shirt before because he can't live up to Blaine even a little. Nonetheless, he raises his hands above his head and lets Blaine pull off the second layer. It is thrown towards the same chair but misses and ends up in a heap on the floor.

Blaine stares and Kurt blushes and ends up covering himself with both arms and if Blaine hadn't worked it out before, he has now and he's making a compassionate sound even as he reaches out and tries to persuade Kurt's arms away. "Baby, come on," he pleads and Kurt is sure that's the first not-funny pet name he's ever been given. "Just let me try this."

It all sounds foreboding and Kurt asks, "Try what?" resisting the urge to wrap his arms back around his body and wishing he wasn't sitting like this because it's not doing his softer than he'd like stomach any favors.

"I just want to try to make you understand something but I need you to trust me a bit." Kurt looks undecided so Blaine presses on. "I need you to lose the pants."

Kurt lets out a bit of a sharp laugh but he slips off the bed and his hands are immediately on the button of his jeans, deft and direct and pushing the tight dark material down his legs before Blaine can even think to tell him to slow down. He steps out of them, kicking them up into his hands and lays them over the chair. He is fiddling and refusing eye contact and the self-consciousness reads easily off him now that he's standing there in nothing but a pair of tight navy blue designer briefs and ankle socks.

Blaine's head cocks to the side and it's a silly thought but he kind of loves Kurt just a little bit more for being like this. It's endearing in an 'I'm really not that perfect' kind of way. He reaches out and pulls him back onto the bed and catches his lips before he falls.

Blaine is careful not to touch him because at some point in the last half hour, today stopped being about having fun with his boyfriend and started being about something else and Blaine needs to be able to think if he wants to achieve it. Rubbing up against his almost naked boyfriend will make thinking, among other things, hard. Just looking at him is making thinking hard and he wishes he could convey that simply.

He kneels at the edge of the double bed and tells Kurt to stretch out. The younger boy complies, blushing and smiling faintly and trying not to blink too fast. Blaine then tells him to roll over and works to make his voice as calm and collected as he can. When Kurt looks startled by the request, Blaine just repeats, "Trust me."

Kurt rolls onto his stomach and he'd be pleased to be hiding in the comfort of the pillows and mattress except he has no idea what Blaine is doing and wonders if Blaine didn't request it so he didn't have to look at him.

A hand lands in the centre of his back, fingers splayed between shoulder blades, just lying there, heavy and hot, skin to skin. Blaine moves to kneel to one side of Kurt's hips, just a hint of denim brushing him there. Kurt feels his breath even out at the soothing touch of the hand against his back, his eyes closing in response as he turns his head against the pillow.

Blaine just can't believe the dimensions of this boy—the ones he's never really taken the time to consider properly because the various colors and fabrics overlying them had never afforded a particularly good preview. Kurt's shoulders are broad and his neck is strong and long. His skin is pale all over and there's barely a hint of tan line anywhere. From shoulders to the small of his back it's all just smooth and flawless and Blaine runs his hand down and back up, keeping centered and slow.

Another hand moves up to join his first and he presses into the skin, feeling muscle and bone underneath, feeling everything lean and hinting at strength and he'd never thought of Kurt as tall because he isn't generally speaking but laid out like this, everything about him is stretched and long. He slips his hands over Kurt's shoulders and squeezes at the muscles in his neck, finding them tense but kneads some of it away and then skirts his hands around Kurt's shoulders, finding them round and stronger still than anywhere else he's been. He wants to wrap his hands around them and dig his nails in but he resists, instead trailing his fingers back down Kurt's sides, scratching firmly enough not to tickle but not hard enough to mark.

He stills at the waistband of Kurt's underwear now utterly enamored and doubting his ability to keep his mind on the job at hand. He takes a deep breath and Kurt asks "What?" in a worried voice and Blaine can't think how to respond. He focuses on the two round dimples punctuating the dip in the small of Kurt's back, the dip that accentuates the curve of his spine and the even more compelling curve upwards into his ass. Blaine runs a single finger around each, drawing patterns and writing his own name in an unconscious kind of way.

Blaine shifts himself as he sighs heavily again and moves a leg across Kurt's prone body, not sure where to straddle because anywhere is going to keep skin from his hands and he's not sure what's going through Kurt's head because he's fallen so silent and he can't see his face. He settles only a slight bit of his weight at the small of Kurt's back eventually, kneeling across him and feeling him tense at the contact. Two hands, back up and now it's turning into a massage and Blaine wishes he could bring himself to care.

Drawing patterns up his back and squeezing at his shoulders he watches, entranced, as a shiver ripples across Kurt. He shouldn't be sitting like this because he's growing hard just from looking at Kurt and surely Kurt can feel it but then maybe that's a good thing. He leans forward and presses his lips down Kurt's spine, finding each vertebra and kissing as low as he can get before his own spine can't bend any further and then trails back up, letting his teeth scratch and Kurt moans just a little into the pillow.

"You like that?" Blaine asks against the nape of his neck, nuzzling there. His voice is low and husky and when Blaine lets his mouth wander across the muscle from neck to shoulder, biting just a little and reveling in the incredibly smooth skin under his lips Kurt rocks just a little.

"You're amazing." Predictably Kurt tenses when Blaine mutters that against a shoulder. "I'm going to make you believe it."

Kurt rocks again as Blaine's mouth skims to the other shoulder and pays it the same attention. "You're making me so hot," Kurt groans, again into the pillow but loud enough for Blaine to hear.

It's strange that Kurt can go from such levels of self-consciousness to being turned on and flaunting it and it catches Blaine off-guard enough that for a second he presses himself down and thinks about falling into him and finding his mouth. But he steadies and chuckles and wonders if Kurt was trying to distract him on purpose. "This isn't about me wanting to turn you on. I want you to understand how beautiful you are."

Kurt hates the use of the word and it's obvious by the way he buries his head in the pillow. What's more, Blaine can see the blush on his cheeks spreading across his neck and into his hair and across his ears and that's just too much and he does lean in a bit closer and presses a wet kiss behind Kurt's right ear, licking a little at skin hotter than usual and liking the moaning response from the boy beneath him.

At that, he rocks back onto his knees and then up onto his feet and stands awkwardly, praying he doesn't fall because that would be bad and he's about to tell Kurt to roll over when he changes his mind and steps to the end of the bed, to Kurt's feet and sinks back down onto his knees. Kurt half turns and throws him a look except it's the first time they've made eye contact since Blaine started and Kurt hadn't expected to see eyes so dark or cheeks so flushed so the expression on his face kind of disappears and he just asks, "What are you doing?"

"I told you," Blaine says, trying to sound playful. "I want to explore." A pause as he tugs a sock off. "And I meant you. That's what I meant." Kurt is still staring at him, disbelief among a torrent of emotions in his eyes. "And now I want to concentrate on your legs."

Kurt has never even thought about his legs. They're not bad, they're just there and they're in better shape than the rest of him by some trick of genetics but still just as pale.

Socks off, Blaine runs an experimental finger across the sole of a foot and is rewarded with a jolt from Kurt. "Ah! I knew you were ticklish!"

Kurt just leans back into the pillow. The backs of Blaine's nails trace over his calves, feather light, and he feels a little ridiculous, feels an odd spark as they dip behind his knees and then keep going up. Blaine does this again and again and on the fourth trip they stop and Kurt has no idea what's caught Blaine's interest on the back of his right calf, why his finger is circling until Blaine mumbles and Kurt can feel his breath on his skin because he's obviously leaned over, "What's this?"

"What's what?" and Kurt's voice is a bit breathless and he hadn't expected that.

"This scar?"

Kurt remembers then. "I accidentally put my leg through plate glass when I was six."

Blaine just makes a noise in his throat and if Kurt was capable of believing it he'd realize that the noise is one of wonder and fascination. Blaine's hands feel like they almost circle all the way around Kurt's ankles when he places them there and starts pushing up ever so slowly. He's still talking, keeping the same tone, almost as if to himself, and there's not very much for Kurt to say.

"You've got big feet," he stops, changing his mind, "well…long feet. And long legs," his thumbs press into Kurt's calves and then caress back and forth, "And this hair is amazing." Kurt is blushing and only does so harder when he feels Blaine's lips a few inches beneath his knees pressing chaste kisses and nuzzling. "And you smell fantastic. Your calves smell fantastic, how silly is that?" And no one can mistake Blaine's self-deprecating chuckle and it makes Kurt want nothing more than to turn and watch him but he can't.

Lips to the backs of his knees and it's a hotter kiss, wet, with Blaine's tongue and then he's losing a little control and kissing the same kiss in an arc up the back of Kurt's thigh and Kurt groans in spite of himself. When he gets higher up Kurt's leg, Blaine has to consider, has to think, but Kurt just groaned so surely he's winning something here and as he breathes over the skin and tries not to stare at Kurt's ass – tries so hard – he traces the crease between ass and thigh with his fingers through the cotton but he thinks he might have just fallen in love with that crease and mirrors the trail on the other side. He bites his lip to stop from saying something stupid or making an inappropriate sound because Kurt has gone still and quiet again.

He can't stop himself from letting his lips trace though, still through cotton and probably luckily because otherwise he'd probably lose it, and as chaste as he can manage, just skimming, nuzzling from one side to the other. But Kurt arches into the bed and Blaine wonders, hopes, that he's trying to get friction but can't really be sure. He presses his mouth open and hot to the skin just beneath the line of underwear on the other thigh. Bites just a little and then sucks and he knows Kurt just muffled a moan.

And then Kurt is trying to move and it's probably to turn over and pull Blaine to him, probably because he's sick of this game but it's not part of Blaine's plan and so the older boy reaches up with both hands and lays them—entirely by necessity, he argues—over Kurt's ass and pushes him down into the bed, mumbling, "I'm not done yet," against the back of his leg. Kurt struggles a little and if he wanted Blaine off it would be easy but he doesn't—not really—so eventually he sinks back into the bed and lets Blaine finish his trail of kisses down his left leg.

When he runs out of legs to consider and by god there's a lot of long lean leg on this boy, Blaine crawls up the side of the bed on all fours, stopping at Kurt's shoulders and running a hand soothingly up over his back, up his neck and he still can't believe how long it is. His hand moves into Kurt's hair and he can't help but speak, even though Kurt is still facing the other way and he can't imagine what he's thinking. "I fucking love your hair," As he twists his fingers through it again and again, he leans close to press another kiss to Kurt's shoulder.

Kurt's neck twists to face him and his arms prop him up from the bed far enough to capture his boyfriend's mouth with his. They kiss and it's long and languid and Blaine is making soft mewling sounds as soon as it begins and Kurt doesn't understand why.

Blaine pulls back, sitting up on his knees and Kurt falls back to the bed, resisting the urge to stretch. "How come you believed me the other day in the auditorium?"

"Believed you about what?" Kurt asks and his voice is faint and Blaine is relieved to find that he's not unaffected by it all.

"That I was so utterly turned on by _you_. You don't seem to want to believe me now but the other day, in the auditorium and then in the car, you kind of flaunted it." He's still caressing at the soft skin of Kurt's back as he speaks, still trying to soothe as he delves into his boyfriend's insecurities. "You got sassy with me and you were sexy as hell but now…you gotta tell me."

Kurt sighs into the pillow. "I'm not in love with that way I look and that's not uncommon for someone like me—I'm not saying I hate myself. I'm in reasonable shape and I take care of my skin and my hair, as you know. But next to you—and excuse the pun—I kind of pale by comparison. And I know in the heat of the moment I turn you on but that's not what you're going for here and it's all bound to be a disappointment—"

Blaine interrupts him with, "Roll over."

Another heavy sigh and Kurt kind of wants the bed to swallow him whole as he presses a hand into the mattress and pushes himself onto his back. He's not embarrassed about being half hard, he's barely even aware of it now. Instead all he can think about as he looks up is how dark and defined Blaine is compared to him, how much more grown up and masculine and amazing.

"You have no idea what you're talking about Kurt," and there's just enough of an edge of pissiness to Blaine's voice that Kurt wonders about it as Blaine lets his eyes rake over his body and then shuffles to kneel beside his hips. He bends at the waist and presses a kiss near Kurt's navel and Blaine can't believe how hot this boy's skin is against his mouth. Can't believe how insanely soft it is and there's hair there. This thin, light-diffracting hair in a neat, delicious line leading down into Kurt's briefs and as Blaine's fingers stroke over it, tracing up and down, Kurt arches into the touch.

Blaine can't help himself and leans closer and kisses again and again and this is going off-script but quickly his tongue is swiping across the gentle swell of Kurt's belly, pressing and finding lean hard muscle that flexes beneath the softness and again Blaine finds himself spelling out his name, now with his tongue, then his lips and then he nips near a hipbone and can't get enough of the taste of the skin beneath him even as he fights to keep his hands still splayed across Kurt's ribs.

"You're so perfect," he whispers as he starts kissing higher, into the dip beneath Kurt's ribs. "Everything's just pale and soft and," he pauses but can't find a better word and he's breathless, "perfect."

Kurt sighs but it's not with pleasure and he props himself up on his elbows to catch Blaine's gaze and say, logically, pointedly, "I am not perfect. Soft and pale are not what men are supposed to be. _You're_ perfect. I'm just a bit wrong and you don't have to pretend. I'm fine really." And he's really not but he feels silly and hot and wishes they were in the back seat of a car being frantic and frenetic right about now.

Stopping, Blaine stares again, can't fathom how he's not getting through and as the mess of lust and love and god knows what else clears from his mind he pushes away from the bed.

"Thank you," Kurt says with relief.

Standing there, beside the bed, Blaine's hands rise to his hips and he tries to calm himself, then decides that's a dumb idea and says with that self-deprecating chuckle, "I am not perfect." Kurt looks ready to disagree. "I'm not and anyone who thinks they are probably isn't a great person to be dating. You don't think there's things about my body I hate?"

Dumbfounded, Kurt shakes his head and looks unimpressed because now his boyfriend is being stupid.

"There are so many things but I think the whole point of this….us…is that it doesn't matter. And I swear to god the other day you knew you were sexy and somehow we've lost that over the last few days but we're going to get it back."

Defiance looks hot on Blaine but Kurt is too busy disagreeing to notice. "I can be sexy in words and singing and when I'm wearing all my designer clothes but like this I'm just this boyish pale mess and…What are you doing?"

Blaine glances up from where he's unbuckling his belt, making very quick work of the button and zip and then pushing his pants and underwear down his legs and stepping out of them as he says, "What does it look like?"

And he blushes because he _does_ feel ridiculous standing there naked but Kurt's eyes are rushing over him and he knows that's how he looks at Kurt so this is the new plan, as silly as he feels. "And apart from the fact that I am obviously hard for you and perhaps you should think about how I got that way, I want you to explore me," he says and comes back to the bed.

Fuck he feels ridiculous. Kurt moves out of the way so he can lie on his back and stare at the ceiling. He hadn't realized he'd feel this stupid and he feels a pang of sympathy for Kurt. Kurt who is just staring at him, looking afraid to touch, looking like he doesn't know where to touch.

Then Kurt breathes and it's shaky and there's a real smile and suddenly feeling stupid doesn't matter at all. "Remind me why you're not perfect?"

Blaine groans and doesn't know why but thinks it has something to do with the way Kurt's eyes keep coming back to his cock. "Touch me—but not there. I don't want to get off yet."

One of Kurt's hands presses over Blaine's abdomen, testing the water and something embarrassingly high and keening escapes Blaine's throat before he can stop it, his hips jerking up and his cock bobbing with the momentum. Kurt giggles and says, "I think other parts of you would beg to differ."

"Sexy, sassy Kurt returns, hmm?" Blaine just mumbles and tries to push the blush rising up his neck away.

Kurt gives a noncommittal shrug and the hand on Blaine's stomach is joined by the other so that both are sitting there, covering the expanse easily.

"Talk to me," Blaine tells him and that's part of the plan, "I want to hear exactly what you're thinking. All of it."

Kurt hums his consideration as he flutters his fingers against Blaine's skin and then lets the words roll off his tongue because Blaine asked and this is a thousand times more comfortable than being the one under scrutiny. "I really, really like your cock and I know we've only…once and it was really fast but it felt perfect in my hand. It felt amazing Blaine."

Blaine's eyes have closed because this wasn't what he wanted but Kurt just actually almost talked dirty to him and he just said 'cock' and what _was_ the original point again?

Kurt is still talking. "I think that's what made me come so hard and I never thought I'd be so obsessed about someone else's cock—" and Blaine is sure he emphasized 'cock' on purpose and he must have been obvious about liking it "—but I am." Thankfully, Kurt turns his attention elsewhere and Blaine can relax back into the bed. "And now you're letting me see you naked and…oh my god Blaine you are so much hotter than I imagined and that's saying something and I can't compete and it would be really nice if you just accepted that."

Blaine groans because he's swinging between horny and compassionate too quickly and too often. "Hey, just talk about me," and that sounds arrogant but Kurt chuckles.

Finally his hands move, sweeping up over as much skin as he can touch, finding everything hard and angular and he could count the ribs and probably differentiate the muscles running over Blaine's abdomen and sides and over his chest and it's all so blatantly hard. "You kept all this so well hidden under the Dalton blazer, didn't you? It's all just compact muscle…" he says, trailing off.

_Finally!_ Blaine immediately responds with, "Yeah, see, I don't like that."

"What?" Kurt asks faintly as he lets his nails scratch down Blaine's arms.

"The compact bit. I'm small. Like, really small. And I have a big head which doesn't help."

Kurt laughs, "You do not."

"I do. I've been living with it all my life and I've looked and I'm shorter than I'd like to be and then there's nothing big about me at all."

Kurt ignores him because he's talking nonsense and instead runs his hands up to his shoulders and presses there, digging his fingers into the muscles. "Well this is perfect," he offers.

"Nope," and Blaine's voice is almost singsong in his triumph. "Too narrow. Not like you, you have these amazing broad shoulders and I just don't."

"You're being silly."

"I know but I'm also being honest and I'm not just making it up."

Kurt huffs and splays his hands over Blaine's chest, fingers in constant motion as he runs them down again, lets them trace the line along the side of Blaine's abs where his hip joins his torso because he saw hints of that in the car and if that's not the most temping track a boy can have, he doesn't know what it. Blaine shifts and stares at him and kind of shrugs his shoulders. "That's always been like that," he explains and no way is he going to try to convince Kurt he doesn't love that line, too. "It's weird, right? It shouldn't be that obvious, it's not like I'm a buff body-builder. But they've always been these straight obnoxious lines."

Kurt doesn't even know where to begin with that one and moves his hands back up to consider the scattered dark hair there, the spread of muscle and then runs a thumb over each nipple, then back, then pressing them between forefinger and thumb and pinching ever so lightly. Blaine moans and mumbles something about playing dirty.

"You don't have anything bad to say about this?" Kurt asks and now he's completely relaxed into the exercise and is teasing while he touches.

"Actually," Blaine says, "I've never liked the hair there. Well, I don't like the hair anywhere. I got hairy earlier than the other kids and copped a bit of teasing at school. This," he points to where Kurt is letting his fingers tug at his chest hair lightly, "is too wiry, it feels terrible to touch."

Kurt begs to differ. Which he's slowly beginning to realize is the point.

"The stuff on my stomach is untamable, as you can see. As is my actual head hair, and you know how much effort I put into making it behave for school. And then this," he points at his crotch and Kurt takes the excuse to stare. "This is just too thick and messy and I trim it, I have to, and I'd probably shave it if I was brave enough and we could talk about my leg hair and arm hair except I'm blushing and it's beside the point."

Kurt is grinning like an idiot because Blaine's babbling is adorable and in his head he's been following the discussion and disagreeing at every turn. He can see the point Blaine is making here and by god is he making it well.

"You, on the other hand have amazing hair," and Blaine is careful to hold eye contact, not to spook him. "And you wear it so well. It's a mess now but it's so straight and soft and I just love the color of it and how it feels between my fingers. You struggle to run your fingers through my hair because it knots."

Kurt holds his tongue and doesn't say that he kind of loves that, kind of loves the curls and the knotting and the excuse to hold there and tug and angle kisses however he likes.

"And this," Blaine scoots up on the bed and reaches out to touch at Kurt's chest, "You didn't let me look before but this is like angel hair, isn't it? Just like the hair on the back of your calves that I fell in love with. It's so soft and I'd bet the rest of it is the same and eventually you'll let me find out."

"You gotta stop calling me soft, Blaine," Kurt mumbles and his tone has shifted again.

Blaine's brow furrows and he scoots up further to sit opposite Kurt on the bed. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to be soft and pale and all those nicknames about me being like porcelain are meant to be jokes so it doesn't work for me."

Blaine is getting frustrated and he's fighting to keep it contained because he keeps thinking he's close to a breakthrough but then loses it. "But I love that you're all soft skin. And you do look exactly like porcelain and next time someone at school calls you that I want you to blush and think of me because it is fucking hot. You know why?"

"Why?" Kurt sounds unimpressed and a little bitter.

"Because everyone assumes you'll be the girl in this relationship, that you'll be the soft one, the gentle one, the one that whimpers and begs and it's a dumb as hell characterization regardless and it's _completely_ wrong for you. I like all this soft skin because underneath it I can feel everything lean and long and there's so much strength literally _and_ figuratively and you smell so much like I want you to smell and you taste amazing and you already know you can make me whimper and make my voice crack and you should probably know by now that you own me. So when I call your skin soft or your hair soft or your smile soft it's only because I can't believe the juxtaposition you're presenting to what I know is underneath. And when someone calls you porcelain at school please, please remember that you seem just as adept at shattering me into a million pieces as I could possibly do to you."

Kurt is left a bit dumbfounded by that speech because no one has ever called him strong or lean or a juxtaposition. He can feel his paradigm shifting and he's terrified by it and all he can manage to say is "Oh."

"Do you understand?" Blaine asks and yes, a little of the frustration is coming to the surface.

"I think so," Kurt tries and leans back into the pillows, holding Blaine's eyes as he stretches out on his back. Actually stretches out, pointing his toes and rolling his shoulders and he's still entirely surprised when Blaine's eyes widen and sweep down him and there's hunger there. "You like…this?" There's still disbelief in his tone, but now the kind that is searching for truth.

"I adore this," and Blaine has to get some contact, some touch and so he straddles Kurt without thinking and only realizes the mistake when they both groan out something long and low at the contact of it all. It's not perfect, because Blaine's just a couple of inches too far forward and his cock is pressing into Kurt's stomach as he leans forward and it looks sinful nestled there between them and Kurt's is pressed into Blaine's naked ass, rubbing up against his balls and Blaine rocks back and that is so unfair.

All of a sudden they both remember Kurt's promise to get naked and lock eyes and laugh a little, the vibration doing remarkable things to Kurt's stomach and making Blaine growl.

"Sit up a bit," Kurt says. Blaine raises on his knees and Kurt's hands move, one down his own body rearranging himself in his underwear and then the other pressed to Blaine's hip, pressing him back and down a little and then Kurt's hands race up his back to pull him down flush on top of him and—

And now, _now,_ they are lined up perfectly and the contact is so obvious compared to everything else they've ever done. There is so little resistance, so much friction and it feels _amazing_. Kurt kisses up against Blaine's mouth and Blaine doesn't argue or try to keep talking, just kisses him back as he lets Kurt angle his hips and feels his legs caught between Kurt's and he's being pulled closer. Blaine's hands move to rest above Kurt's shoulders as Kurt's slip into his hair and he grins to think Blaine doesn't like his curls but didn't gel them for today regardless. They kiss and press and make soft sounds as the pressure between them builds until Blaine's hands move to Kurt's chest and pushes him down into the mattress.

One last hard kiss, tongues lapping and it's so wet and so perfect and then Blaine extracts himself with a shaky laugh and rolls to the other side of the bed, kneeling there and waits for Kurt to open his eyes. When he does, his hair falling in front of his gaze, Blaine lets his hands move down his chest and his voice is rough and low when he says, "You have no idea how much I love all of this."

A smile reaches Kurt's eyes and his voice has an edge that's definitely sassy and sexy and teasing. "You're doing a pretty good job showing me."

"I am, aren't I?"

And Kurt thinks he is probably allowed the arrogance in his voice.

Blaine's hands keep stroking at Kurt's chest, flicking at his nipples experimentally and loving the way he arches into that particular touch. Tracing across his collarbones he finds them all quiet strength and length like the rest of him. Down and across his stomach, a finger circles his navel before he traces lower and starts to walk his fingers across the top of Kurt's briefs. Back and forth until Kurt is whining, "Blaine," and then he lets his fingers slip under and tugs them down. Kurt lifts his hips to help with the progress and Blaine crawls all the way down to his feet to pull them off and drop them over the side of the bed.

And then he stands up on the mattress at the base of the bed, looking a bit silly all naked with his head close to the ceiling and Kurt just looks up at him, mostly amused. "What are you doing?"

"Have we made progress?" Blaine demands and he's brash and desperate enough at this point to let his hand curl around his cock and start a slow stroke.

Kurt stares at that and forgets to answer for several long moments. "Yeah, we have," he eventually murmurs, scooting up a little to sit with his back against the pillows and he arches a challenging eyebrow as his own hand finds himself and wraps around, trying to match the tempo set up at the other end of the bed.

"Really?" Blaine asks, though the conversation is almost automatic, his gaze narrowed to Kurt's hand.

Kurt makes a displeased sound and Blaine doesn't understand why, isn't sure how it fits into the conversation and then watches as Kurt unwraps his fingers—such long fingers and why didn't he make time to consider them—from around his cock and pulls his hand up to his mouth. Kurt laps at his palm twice and watches Blaine through his spread fingers, then flexes them together and slips three into his mouth, wetting them with an obscene amount of noise before a last lap at his palm and then he lets it trail down his chest, feeling silly but watching Blaine undeniably struggle to breathe, and move back around his cock.

He strokes and smiles sweetly and that's Blaine's undoing and unbidden, images of Kurt's mouth replacing Blaine's hand swim before his eyes. He groans and lets his knees give out as he collapses onto the bed, making the mattress bounce and Kurt giggle.

Crawling across the space between them, Blaine has never looked more desperate and when he reaches Kurt he just leans in and kisses him, settling into a rhythm of press and pull and tongues delving and taste and he's probably imagining it but he thinks he can taste something new on Kurt's tongue and that just makes him groan hard against his lips and he wants so badly to touch him so he rocks back on his knees and he places a hand along Kurt's jawline and Kurt is naked and sprawled and touching himself and Blaine says, "You look stunning." And this time Kurt believes him.

The hand along Kurt's jaw rises a little, fingers tapping at his cheek and Blaine wonders if he can ask. But Kurt turns his face and presses his lips to the pads of Blaine's fingers and another deep noise escapes from the back of Blaine's throat and Kurt _wants_. His lips and teeth pull two fingers into his mouth before Blaine has a chance to say anything and he just makes a long drawn-out growl of need and Kurt loves it and sucks hard on those fingers, finding himself wishing they weren't just Blaine's fingers and is terrified and amazed by that idea because it's recurring and become probable.

The hand not stroking himself with long even strokes wraps around Blaine's wrist and pulls the fingers from his mouth so he can lick at the rest. He nuzzles into the palm before lapping there too and it does sound a little sordid and look shameless but Blaine is staring at him and his jaw is hanging open and he's breathing hard. He swallows with resolve and mutters, "I suppose I should tell you I love your mouth as well?"

Kurt just chuckles and runs his tongue up the edge of Blaine's thumb one last time and then lets go of his wrist. Blaine's hand drops back between them and Kurt just looks at him piercingly, waiting.

Except Blaine has forgotten his own hard-on in a strange kind of way—he still knows it's there and needs release but Kurt has taken precedence and that's what matters and so he's moving closer, kneeling between Kurt's legs and moving Kurt's hand away and wrapping his slickened hand around his boyfriend's cock.

They both groan and their eyes flicker shut for a moment. Then Blaine starts stroking and Kurt arches into him and they both want so desperately to watch that they force their eyes open.

Blaine's voice is more wrecked than ever when he speaks. "Show me how you like it."

Kurt's voice catches at that and he thinks about telling Blaine that maybe he really doesn't need to show him anything because they've been 'exploring' for such a long time and he's been hard for almost as long and he's never been this comfortable even with himself and now he is with Blaine and what could be better? But his hand moves and there's so much slickness between his hand and Blaine's hand and his cock and it makes the friction easy and hot and wet.

He threads his fingers over and between Blaine's and sets a pace slower than he needs. "Blaine," he whispers, drawing the boy's gaze up. "Thank you." And he blushes.

Blaine just chuckles until his breath catches and leans in for a kiss, quick and sweet because they both want to watch. "Just come for me, okay?"

It is such an easy request to comply with that Kurt's hand automatically starts to speed up the stroke of Blaine's and presses his hand around him tighter. "I can do that," he murmurs and Blaine laughs lightly again before letting his other hand stroke down Kurt's chest to his thigh where he pushes his legs open further and draws a moan from the younger boy's lips. He keeps stroking and is a fast learner because before soon Kurt's hand is just kind of sitting over his, not directing, as Blaine's grip tightens further, the push and pull of skin over hard flesh beneath his palm intensely hot.

"Come on, Kurt," he urges, breathless and against his shoulder as he leans in again, searching out another hot kiss before biting at his neck, then a collarbone, making him buck hard and groan.

Kurt searches out Blaine's eyes as he pulls back and loses himself in the fierceness there. He watches as Blaine concentrates on the stroke, on the twist of his hand just at the head of Kurt's cock because that makes him whimper in such a magnificent way and suddenly Kurt arches forward further and there's a high keen in his voice as he says, "Oh fuck, Blaine, there, please, just…oh god, do that again," and Blaine knows exactly what he means, pressing his thumb to the underside on the upstroke and twisting a little and squeezing at the head. Does it again. Then again. Watches the tension in Kurt's thighs and his ass and Blaine manages to hold him there as something trembles through the muscle and soft skin of his belly, his chest and then he bucks hard and Blaine keeps stroking, watching, enamored with the whole event, with every inch of this boy, as Kurt comes hard and in a half dozen thrusts and all over the sheets and Blaine's hand and the noise he makes. _Fuck_, he was holding back in the car because here, just for Blaine, he is loud and keening in that high fucking note that always makes Blaine come undone and then Kurt is saying his name over and over and collapsing back into the pillows with closed eyes and a grin.

Blaine leans forward, over him, kisses him and hums when he is kissed back. But Kurt backs away and is still smiling and says, "Give me a minute to just…" trails off. "Let me bask in it for a sec."

Blaine laughs at that and feels amazing and is perfectly content to just move back to the other end of the bed, leaning against the wood footboard and watch Kurt coming down. Except now he's achingly hard and has been for a long time and next time he won't be waiting so long. Next time, he and Kurt are going to do immediate satisfaction. But now he sees that Kurt's eyes have closed and he's started humming a song and he sees that his own hand is still wet with Kurt's saliva and come and that's just way too tempting.

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he wraps his fingers around his cock, squeezes and he thought he'd be able to deal with the idea of Kurt's very essence being on him but he isn't because he groans and Kurt stops humming and his eyes snap open and he's about to say "I was getting to you," in mock-disapproval but the words die when he realizes the mess that's covering Blaine's fingers as he strokes. He can actually hear all that wetness against skin and any need to 'bask' disappears.

He scrambles, forgetting to try to be sexy like Blaine, as he crawls to the end of the bed and devours Blaine's mouth, swallowing a gasp of surprise, because that is the hottest fucking thing he's _ever_ seen and it's because it's him and maybe this is the post-orgasmic bliss kicking in again but he just wants _more. _

He grabs at Blaine's hips and pulls him down and later there will be an ache in Blaine's neck from leaning tensed at a bad angle against hardwood but Kurt looks possessive and desperate. Kurt is trailing hands down Blaine's sides and along that line where his abdomen morph to hips and then thighs, pressing and then pushing Blaine's hand away, leaving just his cock inches from his eyes looking hard and hot and wet with… Kurt's tongue is out and running up the length before Blaine can even think and it takes every ounce of willpower not to come right then and that leaves no willpower to stop from bucking and thank god Kurt is perched above him and in a position of power and has his hands pressing some of his body weight against his hips. Kurt licks again and groans at the shamelessness of the taste of himself and Blaine mixed together. Blaine bucks again and it makes Kurt hum and that doesn't help with his lips that close.

Hands clutching uselessly at the sheets Blaine can't believe they've made it this far and is even more in awe of the boy between his legs, staring at him and then Kurt looks up at him with something wicked and wanton in his eyes and then back down and his lips slip over the head of Blaine's cock and suck just a little and Blaine can't take it. Wraps a hand in Kurt's hair and yanks him off, saying, "Just wait a minute, okay, I…just give me a minute."

Kurt stills and Blaine's hand relaxes and shifts through the soft hair in a caress. He tries to calm himself, tries to stop thinking about what's happening and then Kurt mumbles something about taste and the soft hair slips past his fingers and Kurt presses his hands harder into Blaine's stomach and slips his mouth over his cock again, slips his lips down and laps at it with his tongue and hums and Blaine is wrecked—can't help but buck and manages to get just enough lift to slip another half inch between Kurt's lips, lips which smile around him and a mouth that is so insanely hot and tight and wet and—_oh fucking hell this is embarrassing—_Blaine comes hard, everything about this afternoon tightening, coiling and then breaking and he tries to angle closer.

Kurt swallows once and then pulls away, letting his hand wrap around and stroking the rest from Blaine, letting it spill over his abdomen before leaning forward and kissing it off and oh god that's brash and not helpful to Blaine who has disintegrated into a whimpering mess.

Never would Kurt have thought he'd get off so easily on the taste of another boy's come—it isn't delicious, it isn't disgusting, it's just salty and distinct and he knows that it's Blaine and that makes him want it. He kisses again and licks and Blaine rasps, "Kurt," because this is all too much. Way, _way_ too much. "I can't… can't believe…" and he stops because talking isn't something he feels up to doing right now.

Kurt just laughs and swallows and wonders if Blaine will feel the same, so he leans in and pauses with his lips inches from his boyfriend's, silently asking. Blaine leans forward and kisses him with a mouth already open against his, swiping over his lips and tasting and then pressing into his mouth, over and over, teeth and tongue and groaning because "Damn, Kurt," he murmurs as he presses his hand into Kurt's chest, pushing him back. Kurt just perches there, his hands again pressed into Blaine's stomach and he's smiling, obviously pleased with himself. Blaine just laughs and sucks on his bottom lip, knowing Kurt is watching.

Eventually the discomfort of the wood and the bad angle, and Kurt's weight gets to him and he wriggles, moving his own hands to Kurt's hips and pushing him off to the side, slipping down the bed until he's lying on his side and looking at Kurt who has mirrored the position across from him and is still grinning. They're naked and there is a lot of sunlight in the room and Kurt is comfortable. And half-hard again, Blaine notes with surprise.

"Did sucking me off do that to you?" Blaine asks, voice low, honestly intrigued.

"I'd hardly call what I did 'sucking you off'," Kurt responds with a smirk and Blaine just rolls his eyes and fights the blush in his cheeks. "But yes."

"In my defense, I had been hard for hours and you didn't exactly warn me," Blaine tries to explain but Kurt just continues to look amused. And sassy and sexy. And relaxed. "So sue me if your mouth on my dick and…" oh god, he can't say it, "all the rest got me off faster than expected. I told you to give me a minute."

Kurt just hums and it makes Blaine stupidly happy even though he's still a bit embarrassed that it took less than half a dozen licks. They lie there, still naked, just looking and enjoying the sound of each other's breath as the minutes pass until Blaine says in a low, provocative voice, "You're getting harder and I'm not even touching you."

Kurt looks pointedly to where's Blaine's cock is quickly catching up with his but doesn't comment on it and instead says, "Just thinking."

"What about?"

He smirks and flutters his eyes and oh this is definite sass. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Blaine launches himself across the bed and onto Kurt, a yelp of surprise escaping his mouth before he's overcome with bubbling giggles as Blaine runs his fingers, feather light, up and down his sides, tickling him ferociously. Except it only takes a minute for the laughter to dissolve and their mouths to find each other and Blaine's hands to stop being feather light and start gripping, pulling the boy beneath him against him and Kurt moves both hands to Blaine's ass and grinds into him, shifting up and rolling them over and straddling Blaine's hips, kissing down his neck and laughing again.

"Want me to show you?" he whispers just beneath Blaine's ear as both his hands twist through disheveled curly hair and he presses his entire body down on Blaine's. And that makes it impossible for his boyfriend to answer with anything more than a desperate, needy moan of '_Yes._'

That night, Kurt finds it difficult to maintain some semblance of composure during dinner mostly because he can't stop grinning and he knows his eyes keep glazing over. So he eats too quickly and escapes with excuses about studying geography.

Nine o'clock finds him in front of his vanity running through his evening moisturizing routine and smiling at his reflection. If he pulls back the collar of his pajamas there's a pair of faint bruises becoming visible over his right collarbone and as much as he would have thought that he'd hate the damage to his skin, he can't stop staring and ghosting his fingers across them. So his routine is taking decidedly longer and he's only halfway through when his phone vibrates on his bed.

He could ignore it. But it could be Blaine.

He stands up, toner-soaked cotton ball still in-hand and grabs his iPhone. It is from Blaine. He slides his finger across the screen to read the message as he sits back down in front of the mirror.

_Get your earphones. Click the link. Close your eyes and listen. _

And it's followed by a YouTube link. Kurt bites his lip and hurries himself with the rest of his routine, rubbing lotion into his skin much faster than he usually would, all the while staring at his phone. He spares only a moment to check that all the lids are on everything and then flicks off the vanity lights.

Sitting up in his bed, propping a few pillows behind him, he pulls his earphones from his bedside table and slips them into his ears, fingers working the phone to load the video. The app doesn't show the title but a photo of John Mayer comes up on screen as a song starts to play that he has heard before but never really paid attention to. But now he does and is grinning like an absolute fool before long, a hand covering his mouth to try to contain just a little of it.

_We got the afternoon,  
><em>_You got this room for two,  
><em>_One thing I've left to do,  
><em>_Discover me discovering you.  
><em>_One mile to every inch of,  
><em>_Your skin like porcelain…_

As Kurt hears this lyric, he can't stop a laugh escaping his lips and he shakes his head a little in wonder, thinking back on earlier that day and what Blaine had said to him. And he's right because now that word—_porcelain_—sounds so different and he knows that the next time someone calls him that he'll think of him and Blaine shattering into a million pieces together. And actually he's kind of looking forward to it.

_One pair of candy lips and  
><em>_Your bubblegum tongue  
><em>_And if you want love  
><em>

_We'll make it  
><em>_Swim in a deep sea  
><em>_Of blankets  
><em>_Take all your big plans  
><em>_And break 'em  
><em>_This is bound to be a while  
><em>

_Your body is a wonderland  
><em>_Your body is a wonder - I'll use my hands  
><em>_Your body is a wonderland  
><em>

_Something 'bout the way the hair falls in your face  
><em>_I love the shape you take when crawling towards the pillowcase  
><em>_You tell me where to go and  
><em>_Though I might leave to find it  
><em>_I'll never let your head hit the bed  
><em>_Without my hand behind it  
><em>

_You want love?  
><em>_We'll make it  
><em>_Swim in a deep sea  
><em>_Of blankets  
><em>_Take all your big plans  
><em>_And break 'em  
><em>_This is bound to be a while_

_Your body is a wonderland  
><em>_Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands)  
><em>_Your body is a wonderland  
><em>

_Damn baby  
><em>_You frustrate me  
><em>_I know you're mine all mine all mine  
><em>_But you look so good it hurts sometimes  
><em>

_Your body is a wonderland  
><em>_Your body is a wonder - I'll use my hands  
><em>_Your body is a wonderland  
><em>_Your body is a wonderland_

* * *

><p>If there's anybody still reading at this point I'm damned impressed you made it all the way through all those words. And hopefully you liked it and hopefully you'll answer my plea for reviews because this took me hour after hour to write and I think the beta spent just as long on it. So…that's about it. Epic smut done. I'm going to go and sleep somewhere for a few hours and then probably write something completely different. I am so not looking forward to going back to uni on Thursday where I won't be able to just write all day because I am loving doing it.<p> 


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